Lion's den

THEA

There are growing murmurs.

I’ve faced betrayal. I’ve signed papers that tore my family in two. I’ve looked my son in the eye and pretended I wasn’t breaking.

But this… this is different.

This is walking into a lion’s den when your wounds are still bleeding.

Ezra Harrington doesn’t bother to mask the cold steel in his gaze. He looks at me like I’m a weak link, and in this room filled with sharp suits and sharper tongues, that’s a death sentence.

He clears his throat, and the entire room stills.

“A shame,” he says, voice smooth, deep, and dark. “Some of us value punctuality. And professionalism.”

I gulp, but I don't lift my head. Not because I can't, but because like every other person, I fold under pressure.

And it's reeling off him in waves.

My jaw clenches, but I don’t speak. What can I say? Sorry I was having a breakdown over the ashes of my marriage?

I can still feel his gaze on me.

“You weren’t here yesterday, Ms. Calloway. Care to explain?”

I inhale slowly, trying to steady the shake in my chest and slowly lift my head, meeting his gaze.. I take him in.

A slight stubble frames his chin, giving him a raw rugged edge. But it's eyes. They are cold, icy blue, almost grey. And I hold it.

“Personal matters.” I say.

He raises an eyebrow, hesitates, and walks back to his seat. He settles down, his gaze trapping me. His entire stance looks imposing and intimidating as he taps a pen against the file in front of him.

“Personal matters don’t drive company growth. They drive down productivity. I suggest you get them under control.”

A few people shift uncomfortably. No one speaks. No one defends me.

I nod once. Controlled. Detached. But inside, shame claws at my ribs.

He continues like I’m not even there, flipping to the next slide of the presentation as if he didn’t just strip me bare in front of a boardroom.

I chew the insides of my cheeks and hurry to an empty seat at the far corner of the table, ignoring Nora's look of pity while trying to breathe without feeling his eyes on me, my fists clenched by my sides.

The meeting goes on but I barely hear anything. When it finally ends, the chatter in the room dies down as everyone gathers their stuff and starts filing out of the room but I didn't make any attempt to leave my seat, my eyes fixed on the man sitting from across the huge table, Nora flipping some documents before him.

And when everyone is gone except them, I feel it — the disdain rising in me, washing over the nervousness. I don't care if I'm trembling because this isn't about the meeting, this isn't just about him staring me down.

It's about me.

If you don't want something to repeat itself, you confront it directly the first time it happens.

I should have done that when I started noticing the signs with Sebastian.

And now, I don't want to shrink.

I'm the managing director now and I've sacrificed a lot to get here. I can't probably be dismissed just because I spoke my mind right?

So, I stand up, the chair screeching loudly against the tiled floor. The two pairs of eyes turn to me and I don't care as I walk toward the end of the table, slowly, like if I walk too fast, the tears of humiliation that stems from anger will spill down from my eyes.

And don't blame me, I cry when I'm angry.

“You don't get to talk to me like that.” I say, my voice soft and low. “Why did you target me in front of the board? Was that supposed to put me in my place? When you heard I was the new managing director, did you go through my files? Have I ever missed a day of work without a reason?” I move closer to him, not backing down. “Tell me. Are you just a misogynist that—”

“Thea!” Nora calls, her voice shaky.

I stop, shutting my eyes tightly. I inhale deeply and swallow down the remaining vent.

Maybe I'm just overreacting. No one gives a shit about my personal matters and he probably doesn't understand it. Maybe…

Then, he stands up slowly, his lips set in a thin line, his height and presence overwhelming, but I don't step back.

“Personal matters aren't welcome here, Ms Calloway. Keep them at home.”

I laugh. A bitter shaky laugh that rings out in the cold silence of the white room. “Personal matters affect workers and that affects their input to the company.”

And with a last glance at Nora whose face looks as pale as a ghost's, I give him a short bow and turn, heading for the door, giving him no chance to retort.